


Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: Ambarys Rendar Asks For It

by DirtyScrolls



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fantastic Racism, Kissing, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Groping, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape, Rimming, some knifeplay, some somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23774650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyScrolls/pseuds/DirtyScrolls
Summary: The Dragonborn enjoys himself in Windhelm.
Relationships: Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ambarys Rendar, Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Malthyr Elenil
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42
Collections: Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: The Dragonborn and the Grey Quarter





	Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: Ambarys Rendar Asks For It

Whenever he slummed in the Grey Quarter (as Rendar himself put it), Kordin loved watching Ambarys Rendar. 

He loved the casually elegant way the Dunmer bent and stretched behind the bar and walked around collecting tankards and mugs. He even enjoyed, in a way, listening to him speak archly and rudely to Nord customers. Something about that harsh accent felt sensual on his ears. He fantasized about grabbing a handful of his high buttocks, or brushing his crotch as he walked by. Or outright asking him how he’d feel about some Nord meat in his asshole. It would have been great fun to shake him up. 

Tonight, he lingered, continued to sip his drink and study the man while he wiped the last of the mugs with his slim hands. Rendar did not appear to notice him. Kordin lounged at his table in a shaded corner, caught by the grace of Rendar’s quotidian movements. 

Once he’d finished the his last of his drink, he followed Rendar’s assistant when he took some trash to the landing outside, and stuck him lightly in the arm with an ebony dagger coated in long-lasting paralysis poison. He hid the warm body in the shadows, wiped the blade, applied a weaker poison. He re-entered, and approached Render, who was counting out gold, a fetching sour look on his face.

“Another sujamma, can you, handsome?” he cajoled. “I’ll pay double.”

“Bar’s closed. Last call was half an hour ago.”

“I said I’d pay double.”

“I said ‘bar’s closed’.” 

Rendar continued counting, not even looking at him. Shadows fell in the keen hollows of his face, and the tavern’s lamps cast a shine along his fine nose and cheekbones. Gods, he was a veritable diamond in the rough, stuck behind this bar all day in loose dirty clothes, his rage boiling, his beauty encountered only by the wretched elves and unscrupulous travelers who patronized the ramshackle place. Kordin wanted to coax him back to Hjerim, strip him slowly, fuck him thoroughly, leave marks all over his smooth stone-colored flesh. But he knew ahead of time that was unlikely at best. 

“You sell anything else?” He dropped a wink, but the Dunmer wasn’t looking. He tried again, speaking mainly to tease. “See, I’ve been on the road a long time, and, with a few exceptions, you’re the best-looking man—or mer, whatever—I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’d like to bed you. For coin, of course. I wouldn’t expect the favor of a man like you for free.”

“Fuck off,” Rendar said lightly. “Or I’ll burn you alive. Another gods-damned Nord who thinks he can--”

Kordin had expected all this, and his poison-coated dagger was already in Rendar’s forearm. Rendar fell face-down toward the bar. Kordin caught him before he could smash his distinguished nose. Smiling, Kordin ran his fingers over his rough dark hair and along his cheek. Rendar looked to be in a deep sleep, his features now softened.

Kordin slipped behind the bar and lifted Rendar up by his armpits. He had a nice lean build, and was easy to carry upstairs. His helplessness made Kordin ever the more eager to get those annoying rags off him. 

As soon as the brief paralysis poison ran out, Rendar began to struggle, exactly as Kordin anticipated. He bit into the hand Kordin held over his face. Kordin relished the sharp crunching feel of that bite, just like a Bosmer’s teeth.

“Sithis. Do that again, and I’ll fuck you right now,” he growled into the back of the Dunmer’s neck.

The firebrand elf was turned face-down on his own bed, bound tightly at the wrists and tethered at the ankles so that all he could do was kick ineffectually with those firm legs.

“Go on, bite again,” the Nord chuckled, “I like it.”

Rendar was still, the slender body stuck prone under Kordin’s larger musculature. The horsetail in the mer’s dark hair was mussed and half undone. Kordin yanked it out. The locks that fell to Rendar’s shoulders were coarse, shiny, smelled like some dank strange oil and a hint of thistle. 

“Afraid, now?” asked Kordin. “Not so cocky? Ready to be good to a Nord, for once?”

“What did you do to Malthyr?” Rendar asked, obviously trying to steady his voice.

“That other pretty thing? He’s under paralysis, like you were, only it’s stronger. I left him outside. It’s not too cold tonight.”

Rendar craned his neck back, trying to look at Kordin, his eyes red as his temper, blazing irresistibly.

“Don’t you hurt him.” 

“I dunno,” Kordin said, petting Rendar’s buttocks through the cloth of his pants. “His ass felt nice and round when I picked him up. Just as nice as yours. I might have to try him out, if you don’t quite satisfy me.”

Rendar looked scared, but also shamed. Color bloomed on his face. Kordin pressed Rendar’s cheek into the pillow, and firmly kissed the grey man’s pointed ear. Rendar grunted. The skin under Kordin’s mouth felt hot.

“We’ll see about your tasty friend later. First, we have to deal with you. You need to learn how to treat a paying customer. And a Thane of the Hold, not that you care.”

With that, he began to earnestly kiss the elf’s neck and the areas of his shoulders exposed by his loose barkeep’s shirt, savoring the sweat of his day’s work. When he nibbled at him, Rendar squirmed and seemed to set himself against any encroaching pleasure. 

“I’m going to make you like it, Rendar,” Kordin laughed, “You’re such an ugly-minded old bastard, you could definitely use this. You ought to thank me.” He pulled on the mer’s hair to move his face, stared at him for a second, drinking in his new prize. Then he kissed him slowly, deliberately, savoring his velvety mouth. “Those pretty ruby eyes—oh, you must hate me right now.” Another soft kiss. 

Rendar mumbled something. Kordin pinched his ear. He could never keep from touching and biting a fine mer’s tapered ears. Rendar winced, his spine arching. But he remained quiet, out of fear or anger, Kordin couldn’t tell. Both were fine with him. His teeth worried at the pointed ear.

“I want you bad, and I never give up what I want. You know the guards aren’t coming around this way. Be sure to be good to me and there won’t be trouble.”

“All I ask is you don’t hurt Malthyr.” Rendar swallowed audibly. “I’ll do whatever you like.” 

Kordin smirked. “I was hoping for a little more resistance from a mer like you. You must really care for this Malthyr.” The Nord pinched the back of his wiry thigh. “Are you two fucking? By Sithis. What a sight that must be.”

Kordin licked the saliva from his lips. He used the blanket to wipe the sharp dagger he’d stuck the two men with, and began to slice down the back of Rendar’s stained shirt, baring his slim, wide-shouldered back. Rendar flinched. Kordin pressed his stiff cock into Rendar’s thigh, excited at the mer’s increased vulnerability.

“These clothes are disgraceful. You ought to be in silk.” 

He tore aside the halves of the shirt. There was a muted ripping sound as the worn fabric in front parted from the strain. He cut the sleeves away easily. Rendar watched him over his shoulder with apprehensive eyes.

“If I were gonna cut you, I’d have done it already, trust me, love.”

The lamplight on the dark knife reminded Kordin of Ravyn Imyan. The ex-assassin was doing everything he could to avoid his attentions in the Cistern, but he hadn’t protested--much--when Kordin caught him in a corner of the Ratway and kissed him deeply, groping every part of him he could reach, and making the elf promise to meet him on Kordin’s return from Windhelm. 

With the lingering sensation of Imyan’s hard, unwilling body under his hands, he’d gone to the city restless and unfulfilled. There had been a very attractive Bosmer man in the cart from Riften (Valinor or Valindor or something), but he had disembarked before Kordin could proposition him. And he’d had to send Sero over to Whiterun to take care of some business, so he couldn’t even use his luscious hireling for relief. This all probably explained his decision to finally take Rendar tonight. Kordin was in need, and he had wanted to teach Windhelm’s bitterest grey-skin better manners for long enough. 

Rendar’s pants were just as flimsy as his shirt, and easy to slice away with the honed ebony dagger. Kordin again tickled his naked skin with the point of the blade, making him stiffen up in fear. He removed Rendar’s scuffed boots and thin socks as he cut away the last of the fabric. He massaged each long foot--toes, soles, callused heels. Rendar’s toes curled, as if he were irritated, and Kordin pinched his right instep, making him gasp in sudden pain. Then he cut the cord on Rendar’s loincloth. His prick was soft when the Nord reached under him to caress it, and the smooth ass tightened up under Kordin’s exploring palm.

“No need to be so shy. I’m going to see and touch as much of you as I want.” He tenderly brushed the elf’s ass, just a suggestion of a caress. “And I’m going to finger your hole till you ask for my cock. You’ll want to be be good to me and ask nicely.” Now he ran the dagger-point down Rendar’s spine, stopping at the top of the deep crack between his round cheeks, skated the dagger back up his victim’s spine. “Your friend will be helpless for another hour at least. I can always visit him after I finish with you.”

“I said I’d do what you want.” Rendar’s voice was distant, resigned. “Just please leave Malthyr out of it. I can handle whatever--whatever you want to do.”

“We’ll see, gorgeous.”

Kordin put aside his dagger with some regret and spread Rendar’s lithe thighs, lifting him by the hips to raise his ass. He stroked the soft skin of his hanging sack and ran a finger up his cleft, which was lined with a dusting of hair. The hole was a small hot fissure he couldn’t help but tease, tracing the ring, probing with the tip of his finger. Rendar moved away from his hand as if by instinct. Kordin held him by the hip.

Eager, he buried his mouth and nose in Rendar’s ass-crack, smelling fragrant sweat and whatever cheap soap Rendar used. He separated the cheeks further with his thumbs, entirely exposing the dark-grey hole. Then he moved back in, kissing it open-mouthed. Rendar made a startled sound as the Nord’s tongue began to bathe the tiny opening vigorously. For the next few moments, Kordin alternated between lapping at Rendar’s damp crack to coat his hole with more spit, and working his fingers into the tight hot place. When the first finger slid in to the knuckle, Rendar muffled his own cries with his pillow. The second finger caused him to bite back a yelp. The sounds, and the attempt to hide them, aroused Kordin fiercely. Lust threatened to overwhelm him as he nibbled and licked at the tender flesh around his probing fingers. 

He sat up on his knees and looked at the condensation on the window for a minute, catching his breath and letting Rendar get accustomed. There were three thick long fingers inside him now, and the muscles in his back shuddered with his pain. His hair stuck to the sweaty back of his neck. Kordin had to look away again from the erotic sight, his fingers ever moving inside Rendar’s moist heat, loosening him. The sensation on his hand was heavenly.

At last, he pulled out his fingers one by one. Uncomfortable for Rendar, at least if his low groans were any indication. Kordin didn’t think he could go much longer without filling him.

“Ready to make sure I’m satisfied? Ready to ask for it?”

Rendar raised his head to look back at him. His eyes were even more like flawless rubies now, glittering with frustrated tears.

“How—how should I—what do I say?” he asked. His low rough voice had changed completely, sounded subdued, a little shaky.

“What do you say to your friend Malthyr?” laughed Kordin. “Ask for my prick inside you. And do it politely, as difficult as that might be for you.”

“I--Put your prick inside me,” Rendar said, sounding flat and quiet, as if the words tasted bad. “Please.”

“You sure?” Kordin tugged at the elf’s hair. “Might be a bit big for that sweet little hole.”

“Please,” Rendar murmured, his neck and the side of his face showing a distinct embarrassed blush in the warm light. “Please fuck me.”

“I might believe you more if you stick your ass up and spread for me while you say it.”

The tethers at his feet only allowed for so much movement, but Rendar was able to hunch up on his knees, back arched down to show off his buttocks. He wiggled his thighs open as much as he could. Kordin watched him work awkwardly to position himself, drool filling his mouth at the mer’s humiliation. 

“Fuck me,” Rendar said. “Please,” he quickly added, his voice growing smaller, “Please fuck me.”

“Again,” Kordin ordered, placing a hand on Rendar’s clammy back.

“Please fuck me.” It was almost a whisper.

Rendar sounded so beautifully abject, such a difference from the usual. The Nord got up behind him, spat on his hand, stroked down his own length. He inserted his dripping prick into the mer’s most secret place, into the clutch of that slim grey body. He kept his hands on the other man’s narrow hips, holding him steady as he began to thrust. Rendar growled in pain, hid his face again in the pillow. As much as Kordin loved hearing Rendar’s noises, he was glad of this. He didn’t need to wake the whole Quarter and find himself outnumbered by angry witch-elves.

He found his rhythm in the elf’s hot insides, slipping in and partway out, then in deep again. Rendar’s smaller body seemed to want to expel him, he was just so tight. Kordin kept a firm grip on his hips. Rendar took it with his face hidden, his breathing loud and ragged, his body shivering delightfully.

Kordin rubbed his back gently and angled himself in a way the mercenary Sero particularly liked. This resulted in an especially sharp gasp as Rendar’s body started beneath him. Kordin continued at the same angle, and Rendar’s body rocked with him, as the Dunmer tried to suppress little cries of shocked unwanted pleasure. Kordin stroked the sides of his hips with his thumbs, easing his rhythm so as to prolong things, especially now that the handsome bastard was reacting so pleasingly. Rendar groaned long and low under him. He burrowed his face deeper in the pillow as Kordin picked up speed again. 

Kordin reached beneath Rendar and pawed the mer’s half-hard prick. After a few moments, he licked his own hand, and used the spit to massage grudging moans out of the elf.

“I told you you’d like it,” he said into the mer’s lovely ear as he stroked him firmly in time with his own thrusts. “Feel how big and hard you’re getting for me. I know I’m good at this. I know you can’t help it.”

He continued to caress Rendar’s shamefully responsive cock as he moved in and out of him, feeling the lazy trickle of the mer’s pre-ejaculate over his hand. That did it. Heat built in his groin and he bit Rendar’s shoulder to mute his own cry as he came inside him, all too soon. 

It was a powerful orgasm. For several seconds, he knew nothing. He entertained the vague idea he was at home in Whiterun with Sero under him. 

Then he remembered where he was and grinned widely to himself in congratulations. His body was limply clasped over Rendar’s, the elf squirming and sounding like he was going to choke or cry. 

Kordin kissed his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, beautiful. You more than satisfied me.” He got up and arranged his clothes. “I’ll let your friend untie you when he can move. Maybe he’ll finish satisfying you.”

On his way out, he dragged Rendar’s assistant into the tavern, pausing to fondle him through his clothes for a few sweet self-indulgent moments. The motionless mer’s quiet vulnerability was tantalizing, but he could wake up any minute now, and Kordin didn’t have the energy to deal with that. So he soon left him alone, at least partially keeping to his agreement with Rendar.

He strolled back to Hjerim through the oddly mild night, collapsed across his bed, and fell into a deep, glutted sleep.


End file.
